Weaknesses
by KeyLimePie14
Summary: One-shot. His smile slowly fades over his face and you smile back at him. The sparkle is returning to his eyes. You laugh and kiss him on the nose. FreddiexSam.


**Here are some more ramble-y, drabble-y thoughts that could never make it into a story. *looks down at the ground, sadly* Even if they are cute for their purpose… Hm. But anyway, I pretty much just wanted to write in this person again because it is so fun! :D I love using 'you' all the time. Such a cool word if you ask me. I will never understand why you can't use it in English essays… hmm…**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

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**"Weaknesses"**

**FanFic by: KeyLimePie14**

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You groan and rest your elbow against the bathroom sink once more. You stare into the mirror at your half-blurry reflection. You've only managed to pop one contact in, so you can't focus on the reflection glaring back at you.

"Stupid piece of corrective eyewear," You mumble to the bowl-shaped piece of material on the tip of your index finger. You've already been in a bad mood for awhile now, and this aggravation is only making it worse.

Since you can't really see, you don't notice that you've done a poor job of wiping the makeup off your face. You don't normally wear makeup, but you couldn't fight off your best friend as she had advanced on you mere hours ago, with the palette and small, foreign looking brush in her hand. You groaned and screamed out in protest as she began painting your face in small, short strokes. She told you it would all be worth it by the end of the night.

It had been the night of your first date, _ever._ And you were so excited. You listened to her; you were going to do everything it took so this night pulled off without a hitch.

_So much for that_, you think as you let out a long, dejected sigh. The stupid contact just won't go into your eye without causing tears to jump to your eye in irritation. You're about to just give up and decide it's not worth the effort. Your night has already been ruined, what is the point of trying to fix it now?

A small knock echoes off of the door frame and you almost jump out of your skin at the suddenness. Luckily the contact stays in place on your fingertip as you just flung your hand sideways in your slight panic.

You turn your head so you can see the figure standing in the doorway. The picture is still partially unclear due to the fact that you still only wore one contact. No matter, you still knew who the person standing in the doorway was. His stature was very distinct and you were positive you could never mistake him for another.

You don't speak; you have nothing to say to him.

You're still angry and he seems to notice it as he sways nervously from foot to foot.

You know that you have every right to be angry with him. The date was going fine until he had to make that snide comment. That one comment that you didn't think you could ever forgive him for.

"Sam." He whispers softly, his voice coming out dismal and nothing like what it usually sounded like. You hate that he's feeling this way, but you can't bring yourself to see past you anger to help him just yet. You want him to suffer a little bit, just so he can understand how he'd made you feel.

In your mind it seemed logical, but the longer you stand there staring at his blurry outline you begin to wonder if you should just forgive and forget. You know he probably didn't mean it, that it was just an automatic defense mechanism from all of the years you'd bullied him.

You know he was just acting on instinct.

But, damn, it sliced right through your heart.

Your eyes began stinging again, only this time it wasn't from the contact irritating it. You were about to cry. You turned your face away from him and determinedly and ruthlessly tried to shove to contact into your eye. It clung to your eyeball with a small _'pop'_ and you leaned back slightly to take in your appearance. You grimace as you see how torn up you looked.

Your hair was falling from its bun, leaving stray wisps of hair jumping out erratically all over your head. There was still black makeup stained down your rosy cheeks, and the once beautiful outfit was now covered in water spots from leaning against the sink. There were also streaks of black covering your left shoulder, and you begin to wonder when you had wiped your eyes on your shirt.

You hear the dull sound of light footsteps approaching you and your breath hitches in your throat. You wish he wasn't here to see you like this. You don't want him to think of you as weak. But you sigh inwardly; you _are _weak.

What else could explain the sudden urge for him to hold you tight against him?

"I'm sorry." He whispers in that same defeated voice. God, how you're beginning to hate that voice. You want his strong, baritone voice back. That voice is what soothed her.

You ask him what he's sorry for. He doesn't respond right away, instead he just stands there and stares at you with his milky chocolate eyes. There's something different about his eyes and you realize it's because they are dull. His eyes usually hold a certain sparkle to them. That sparkle is gone and you want to beg him to put it back. You want him to be happy. You hate seeing him sad.

He's telling you how bad he feels. You shake your head back and forth, pressing your hand to his chest. He stops talking mid-sentence and looks at you in conjecture.

You tell him he has nothing to be sorry about. You were wrong and he was right.

You hate being submissive. But you hate him upset even more.

His smile slowly fades over his face and you smile back at him.

The sparkle is returning to his eyes.

You laugh and kiss him on the nose.

He tells you he loves you and a brief look of fear crosses your face.

You never expected him to say he loved you, but you realize as your looking at his face that you love him too.

You tell him so, and the smile returns.

He grabs your hand and pulls you out of the bathroom suggesting smoothies. You can only laugh and go along with his suggestion.

A cold smoothie would hit the spot right now.

You ignore the swarm of butterflies rising up in your stomach once more as he stops to quickly lean down and kiss your cheek.

You give his hand a small squeeze in response, and you totally forget that you have makeup running down your face.

You don't care. It's a distant memory to you and right now all you can think about is the brown headed boy standing next to you.

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**Sorry if that was OOC… or confusing. XD**

**Review!**


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